


Absent

by 13atoms (2Atoms)



Category: The Great (TV 2020)
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Nearly breaking up, Orlo is overworked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms
Summary: Request: Orlo tries to keep the reader from knowing about the coup to protect them, but due to Orlo being distracted by the coup the reader is worried he doesnt care for her anymore.
Relationships: Orlo (The Great TV 2020)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	Absent

“He’s distant…” you mused, propping your chin up on your hand.

Your friend groaned.

“He’s absent!”

She had a point.

You had been supposed to spend the day with Orlo. You had even forgone underwear and planned a nice afternoon, with a very private evening meal.

He had cancelled, a carelessly-scribbled note reaching you a full twenty minutes after he was supposed to arrive.

Orlo’s work had overtaken him, barring you from his rooms a lot of the time, and you had been delighted he had agreed to spend a whole day with you. He had seemed enthused, too, declaring his want to spend time with you. His keenness had been a balm, soothing the deep ache in your chest. You had been unsettled by his absence, especially just half a year into your courtship. He used to be passionate, devoted to the point of obsessed. Now he was just… a ghost in your memory.

When the note came declaring his extremely important, busy day, you had almost broken down in tears. Lady Asya had rushed to your side with a quick word from your servant, and you mused on her presence.

She hadn’t seen you cry in a year, not since Orlo had supplanted her as your closest confidant. She’d been glad for his presence in your life.

You and Asya had grown up together, gone through the process of her being betrothed by arrangement, and now the beginning of her family. She had been happy for you, finding Orlo. Truly, happy. She had thought he was the best thing to happen to you in a very long time, loved how he worshipped you, thought the secrecy of your courtship to be completely adorable.

Now she lay beside you on your bed, furious.

“That bastard. I’ll make a eunuch of him, I swear.”

The tears wouldn’t stop falling, no matter how much you insisted yourself to be stupid for being so distressed. She hugged you in consolation, her arms around you only making you more upset.

Orlo should be here.  
You wanted to defend him, you did. But it was the third time he had done this to you, cancelling on such short notice. You simply couldn’t defend this behaviour anymore.

“Why would he agree, if only to cancel?”

“Because men are pigs.”

You laughed at her through your tears, shaking your head. Despite everything you trusted him. Felt sure he had a reason. Didn’t he?

“He is so unlike any man I have ever met. Caring and… truly sweet. I swear.”

“Is he really? For all his bullshit about romance books and love, he is not here.”

Asya was angry. You knew that. Only trying to protect you.

The truth in her words stung, making you sigh.

You knew what she was thinking. The rumours which swirled around him. It used to be fortunate, that the lies about him suffocated any truth about the involvement between the two of you.

Now it was distressing, to hear gossip about Orlo as though the two of you were unacquainted, other ladies of the court barely sparing you a glance of acknowledgement before spinning the tales they told.

Most of the rumours were routine; that he was a sexless virgin, that he had ejaculated at the sight of a woman’s breast at a banquet. Those harsh words felt familiar.

The newest one had pricked your ears, making you sick to your stomach the first time you had heard it. Worst of all, this new rumour aligned with your own deepest suspicions:

He is fucking the Empress! Making a cuckold of the Emperor himself!  
It was always the fucking Empress. When he was ripped from you to his ‘duty’, her messengers and pretty silhouette were never far from the cause.

“He has duty,” you reasoned, trying to convince Asya. You could not convince yourself. “He would be here otherwise.”

“What greater duty could he have, than his lover? Certainly not assisting the throne. The Emperor is outside right now, planning a hunt.”

You blinked away tears as you walked to the windows, peering out. Sure enough there was a group of men outside, guns against their shoulders, laughing loudly. At the centre of it all was the Emperor, entertaining a crowd, jokingly swinging his weapon around.

You winced as it went off, firing dangerously near a window on the palace. Quickly you scanned the group, your stomach sinking as you realised the truth of the matter.

Orlo was not amongst his company.

“Paperwork?” you suggested, flopping back onto the bed again, chest dangerously close to coming free from your dress.

It was his favourite. Uncomfortable, but you had made the sacrifice for Orlo.

Bastard.

“You know as well as I do that he spends his whole life inventing paperwork. It can all wait. It’s not as though letters require instant attention.”

“I mean… I think he’s busy though.”

“What did he say he was doing today?” your friend asked slowly, like you were stupid.

You felt your throat tighten as you started slotting puzzle pieces together in your mind.

“Urgent work for the Emperor…”

“For fuck’s sake!” Asya sat up on the bed, turning to stare down at your dejected face, your pouted bottom lip. “The Emperor is out there! Busy! If he wanted to be, Orlo could be with you. He’s a dick!”

You heard movement outside, no doubt the men finally preparing to storm into the forest and take pot shots at some poor rabbits. You had half a mind to run back to the window, so unwilling to believe you’d gotten Orlo so wrong. He had to be there.

You could scarcely believe he had the guts to lie to your face.

The words you’d heard in the corridors started to make sense, the lying, the sneaking around.

“He’s cheating on me.”

“I’m sorry.” Asya ran her fingers over your hair gently, and you felt so stupid.

Crying on your bed, consoled by a friend you’d let fall by the wayside because of your new beau, a day of plans ruined because you’d trusted Orlo to show up for you. For once.

You were there ready for him, no underwear, the finest treats imported, and he was sticking his cock in some other woman. The book you’d bought him for a surprise sat in its hiding space under your pillow, and you had half a mind to rip the wretched thing in half.

Asya wiped the tears from your cheeks, pity written all over her face.

“Wretched thing: love,” she told you tearily.

You sobbed out loud, gripping her hand for comfort. You had never felt heartbreak like this. Never expected it from Orlo, of all people.

“He’s a bastard.” You choked out, the repercussions of this only just setting in.

God. He’d wanted to marry you. Wanted to move into new apartments together. Talked about your future for hours and hours, lulling you into a false sense of security.

You had brought up the worry you could fall pregnant once, and he’d been brought to tears by the idea of having children with you. I want that more than anything, he’d told you.

Bullshit.

“You deserve better,” Asya muttered, rubbing your shoulder in comfort.

You barely heard the door click open.

There he was. Orlo crept through the doorway, and you heard Asya groan at his appearance.

Now he was here you felt a bittersweet longing, realising you couldn’t hate him. You were hurting too much for that.

“Do you want me to stay?” Asya made no secret of her words as Orlo entered the room, eying him with a level of protective hostility you had never seen on her face before.

“Go,” you whispered, and she wiped one last tear before she stood.

You watched their interaction from your spot reclined on the bed, too boneless from heartbreak to sit up. Lady Asya didn’t touch Orlo, but she marched up to him with such ferocity he recoiled like she had slapped him.

“You’re a dick,” she spat, and he hung his head.

You felt the two halves of your chest starting to rip from one another, struggling to breathe as you recognised guilt on his face.

This was it.

Asya slammed the door as she left, and the two of you were left alone.

You ignored Orlo’s offered hand, choosing to stay where you were, and he laid beside you. Uncomfortably close to the pillows, he felt something behind his head, and inspected the object with delight when he retrieved it.

“Leibniz!” he remarked. “Translated, too! I have been desperate to read this!”

“I know.”

The book was rare, expensive, and now, wasted.

Your voice was so flat he put the present aside instantly, rolling onto his side to examine your face.

“Why are you crying?” His words were so careful, you felt sure he already knew.

“You.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ‘ah’!” You spat his own stupid exclamation back at him, an unfavourable impression of him.

He sank back.

“I’m sorry about today, I know I agreed to have lunch, but…”

“A whole day, Orlo! That is what I asked of you. You couldn’t even make lunch!”

He tried to touch you, run a hand over your exposed collarbone as he eyed the low neckline of your dress. You shuddered. Pushed his hand away.

“I had important work… I swear.”

“Liar.”

Orlo lay in silence beside you, and you almost snarled at the tears welling up in his eyes. Coward.

Both of you spoke at once.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Who are you fucking?”

You didn’t give him time to take a breath, and you heard a cry of outrage from deep in his throat.

“No one! Only you, I swear.”

“You are certainly not fucking me,” you crossed your arms, staring up at the canopy above your bed. You’d seen it so many times with him thrusting into you, his face between your legs. “So who else is it?”

Now you wished you could take it all back.

“I’m sorry I’ve been busy. The Emperor has been demanding and I swear I will make this up to you.”

Caught.

“Where were you earlier?” you tried.

From his sudden stillness you knew he suspected the laying of a trap.

He walked straight into the nets anyway, entangling himself.

“I… working! I told you.”

“With Peter?”

“Yes!”

You snorted, rolling over and slowly getting up, wanting to just be away from him.

“You are a liar, Orlo! He’s hunting. We saw him leave.”

“Whatever ideas Asya has been putting in your head, I have done nothing wrong. I am faithful, you have to know that. Many wouldn’t be.”

He was begging you, a hand reaching you to grasp your forearm, his gentle touch meant to stop you from leaving. You shook him free with a single shake of your arm.

“Asya has done nothing but be here for me. More than you have done.”

“I can’t tell you what I am doing, love. But I am innocent.”

How dare you call me love? You wanted to scream at him. How dare you?  
“Both of those things cannot be true. Either you are lying to me, or you are not. Even I can figure around that logic.”

“You’re wrong, I swear to you! I am trying to keep you safe. You have to trust me!”

“Trust you? You have done nothing but lie to me! And lie about lying!”

You were sick of him. Sick of his tears and his hands, reaching out to you like a dying man grasps for a lifeline, like a religious person might reach out to a priest for blessing. You were sick of the way your heart clenched and your stomach filled with nausea at the thought of leaving him.

You returned to where he was sat, making eye contact as he shrunk back, glaring down at him.

“Tell me who, then.”

He took a deep breath, and you steeled yourself as though you were expecting to be shot at. To be dealt a parting blow by the man you’d thought you loved.

“Catherine and I are conspiring to–”

“Catherine?!”

You felt weak, felt your legs give out as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

There was nothing you could do.

She was more powerful.

Had everything.

You were no competition.

“Our relationship is nothing but political, I mean, that sounds bad. We are friends, and plotting… something, and it’s taking all of my waking hours at the moment but I swear to you…”

His stumbling irritated you. A man so wise with his words, suddenly struggling. It struck you as nothing short of suspect.

“Catherine. They all said it, warned me about her. About the pull she had on you. You’ve been seen around, apparently quite in love…”

“Not true! We are… love I will endanger you by speaking the words, I can’t tell you.”

He had pulled his hair partially free of its styling, ruined its coif, something you had only seen in moments of great stress or moments of pure ecstasy. Now the beauty of seeing him dishevelled held no appeal. Instead, you were seeing him destroyed, his lies crashing down around him.

“I love you. Can you believe that?” His voice was weak, and it made your treacherous heart long to forgive him. “Please?”

“I used to.”

He sank to the ground with you, resting his head on your bare shoulder, face hot and wet with tears. You’d always loved that he was emotive. Now it was making communication frustrating.

You let him pull you in, since this might be the last time. You sincerely wanted to just hold him.

“If I tell you everything, you could ruin me.”

“You think I would do that?” you frowned.

No amount of anger had ever made you want to hurt Orlo. Not even the burning anger you felt for his deceit. You had never wanted to hurt the man himself.

“Oh… of course not. I just mean… this information is so dangerous to hold, I can’t imagine…”

You grew cold with him again, irritated.

“This is quite the excuse for cheating on me, Orlo.”

“We’re staging a coup. Me and Catherine and Marial, perhaps General Velementov, and we plan it while the Emperor is away or busy or asleep, and I couldn’t bear you being hurt if you knew, and it failed.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Ask any of them! I will… I shouldn’t have told you but let me speak to Catherine, she will confirm my story. I swear. I hate myself for hurting you,” his voice broke, and you pulled him close. “I cannot risk you.”

“What is your plan?”

“Catherine, installed as Empress. I could tell you more but…”

“I don’t want to know.”

He hung his head, letting his forehead rest on your bare shoulders, arms dancing around your body to find ways to pull you closer to him.

The carpeted floor was uncomfortable, but you stayed on the ground with him. Let him seek comfort as you mulled over the information.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“You can’t tell a soul! Not Asya, not a servant or a family member or...”

“I am aware of that. Obviously.”

You hummed.

“I’d almost prefer you were cheating on me. That would be less likely to have you shot.”

“I would shoot myself first, I swear.”

Orlo’s hands shook, but his voice was firm.

“I believe you.”

He sat with you in his arms for a moment, just holding you. You let him grip you as tightly as he needed, knowing he’d never hurt you, mind drifting back to all the other times you’d been let down by him.

It still seemed so unfair, that he would stand you up with nothing more than a note.

The way it had to be, you supposed. He’d better pull this coup off.

“God, I’m a prick for not being here today.”

“Yep.”

He exhaled a laugh into your hair. You found yourself mirroring him, combing through the freed long black strands of his hair, regretting just how much heartache you could have saved if he’d just been honest.

“What did you have planned?” he murmured.

“A picnic in the grounds. Just… chatting. I forewent underwear, too… just in case that chatting went further. And a private dinner. I thought you might have me for dessert. I was going to have a full meal brought here. Your favourites.”

“Fuck.”

His head fell back against the bed, his irritation more rooted in letting you down than missing the day.

“That all sounded wonderful. No underwear too… what a risk.”

One hand began its route up your skirt, and you clamped your legs together, trapping it.

“If you think I’m going to let you fuck me, after what you just put me through, I swear to god, Orlo.”

“No, just let me… let me do the work, okay? Let me apologise.”

“It’s not enough.”

He withdrew his hand, helping you stand with him and laying you against the pillows of the bed. When he saw the Leibniz book he faltered for a moment, briefly pulling it to his chest before setting it carefully aside with a muttered thank you.

Then he looked at you, regarded your tear-stained face and ruined hair, the way you’d put on his favourite fucking dress only to be discarded and ignored. He leant forwards, kissing you gently, stroking your cheek.

Then he pulled back.

“Let me introduce you to everyone tomorrow morning, even if you only go once,” his puppy-dog eyes were too hard to stay mad at. “You will know I am telling the truth.”

“Okay.”

He smiled roguishly, hand on your ankle again.

“Can I start my apology now?”

“Don’t you have somewhere more important to be?”

“Oh, never.”

You knew you should decline, but your body had other ideas. You were already craving the feeling of his tongue, preferring to feel it somewhere it could do less harm than when he was speaking.

With a mocking tilt of your head, you watched the devilish smile on his face transform into earnest lust, how he licked his bottom lip subconsciously, as though he was a man starved.

“I’ll allow it.”


End file.
